Emily closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breathing, pushing down the emotions surging within her.

“Mr. Norman, this is the ladies' restroom,” she said, her voice strained.

“I know,” Satan replied, leaning in, seemingly inhaling the scent of her hair. “You changed your shampoo too.”

“Mr. Norman, I came to the Great Wall Group to provide design support, not to discuss shampoos or menstrual cycles with you,” Emily said, her frustration barely concealed.

Satan didn’t stop, ...